Stranger Things Have Happened
by Purple Eyed Cat
Summary: It's strange that one would recognize a cat from an old childhood story and an ancient wooden figurine, but this cat was different. Slightest spoilers for Terrier. Takes place during IHOTG.


**A/N: Hello, all, and welcome to this one-shot. Okay, first of all, this contains slight spoilers for Terrier, so please, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ TERRIER!! If you have, by all means, please proceed.**

**A/N: Now, in Song of the Lioness, we all know of Alanna's friends' reactions to Faithful, and it mentions George in there, but we never see his reaction. After reading Terrier, and reading the very beginning, I always wondered if George recognized Faithful from his ancestors' shrine and knew what he was. I thought about it, and this is what resulted. I tried to be as true to the characters as I could, so I apologize if they are out of sorts. Please enjoy!**

**Summary: It's strange that one would recognize a cat from an old childhood story and an ancient wooden figurine, but this cat was different. Slight spoilers for Terrier. **

**Disclaimer: This is all Tammy's. **

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Stranger Things Have Happened

It was a typical day at the Dove. George was busy keeping his thieves under his control, dealing with the Rouge, and doling out threats and punishments as was customary to those who didn't obey. So when Alan—or Alanna as she was known to the select few that knew her secret—finally did appear, George was already tired, and it was only a few hours after midday.

Inviting Alanna up to his rooms, George sprawled gratefully into a chair and closed his eyes, ever alert. Not even bothering to move, he questioned, "So lass, how did your errand to the hills go?"

He could hear her shrug from where she sat in the chair a few feet away. "The errand was mostly uneventful." Came her reply, but the edge in her voice revealed to George's finely tuned ears that something had happened.

"Mostly?" The King of Thieves asked, opening one hazel eye to gaze at her mischievously. "Don't lie to me lass, with you, "mostly" means something happened." Sitting up, he fixed her with an intense stare. "What happened?"

The girl next to him fidgeted, dropping her purple gaze to the floor as her face heated in a blush that rose from her cheeks to the roots of her flaming red hair. It was then that George noticed the black shadow that detached itself from beside Alanna's chair and padded towards him.

"Is this part of 'mostly'?" George asked, grinning wickedly as the girl nodded mutely, seeming to watch him carefully. The black shadow turned out to be a cat, barely out of kitten-hood. The kitten sat back on its haunches, but rocking forward, launched itself upward into the thief's lap.

"Hello," George commented to the kitten, running one large hand delicately over the fluffy coat, rubbing under the kitten's chin in order to get a glance at the cat's eyes. Instead of the ordinary blue, green, or amber, this kitten's eyes were…

"By the Trickster…" George whispered, staring into the cat's purple orbs that stared back at him with an infinite wisdom. He could feel the blood rush from his face, but he barely heard Alanna's concerned, "George?"

It wasn't the fact that the kitten's eyes matched Alanna's—although that was extraordinary in itself—it was that he recognized the cat from somewhere else. He had first seen it at the age of six, a small wooden likeness of the cat sitting in front of him now, accompanied by a wonderful story that had contributed the King of Thieves choosing his current occupation.

The cat surveyed him with purple eyes, and his tail lashed back and forth as he meowed. The meow suddenly seemed like human speech to the thief, and the cat said calmly, _Hello, Cooper._

George continued to stare at the kitten, whom he heard Alanna faintly call "Faithful," but his mind was spinning. He handed the kitten back, managing a shaky grin that covered up his whirling mind.

"Is that all, lass?" He asked, lazily settling back into his chair and trying to reorder his mind so he could think straight again. Alanna nodded wordlessly, still wondering why her friend had gone so pale at the sight of her new pet.

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When she had gone, George sank into his chair, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and running a shaking hand over his face, closing his eyes. Suddenly, he bolted out of his chair, a burst of energy that suddenly flowed through his veins propelling him out the door, down the stairs, and out the back door. 

Saddling his mare, George rode for his mother's house, needing to know if what he had seen was true, if what his mother had told him all those years ago was true, if The Cat had truly returned to them.

Without even stabling his horse—he knew she wouldn't leave him unless forced—George sped into his mother's house, ignoring her startled exclamations and urgent questions as her son sped through the rooms of the house, his hazel eyes over bright and his face flushed.

Finally locating the wardrobe where his mother kept the ancient shrine that he hadn't seen since childhood, George halted in front of it, staring up at the large wooden chest in awe, much as he had as a child. With shaking hands, George reverently took it down from its place, his mother's ardent warnings about handling it carefully still ringing his ears. Setting it down on his mother's bed, the man opened the small shrine with trembling fingers. There, in the very front, was the figurine that he sought.

Vaguely, in the back of his mind, George noticed that he was sweating. He gazed at the smooth, worn wooden statue, his gaze immediately drawn to the old wooden figurine of the small cat by his ancestor's feet. The black coat was the same, even though the paint had chipped in places, but it was the purple eyes that stared up at him, as they had again a short time ago, that caught his attention. Even though they were worn and ancient, they still seemed to hold a blazing power that shone, even through the faded violet color, that he had seen in the kitten's eyes.

But now this same cat rested at the feet of a small, fiery, purple-eyed redheaded girl, not the tall, cool, calm, blue-eyed blonde that stared back at him now, and even though her blue eyes were as faded as the cat's, they still seemed to radiate the same power. George traced one finger over the cat's wooden shape, still wondering. He was so caught up in his wondering thoughts that he jumped at the light hand on his shoulder.

"George?" It was his mother. Eleni Cooper stood, concerned, watching as her son traced over the figurines of his ancestors as if in a trance. She had been afraid that something had happened, when he went tearing through the house earlier in a panic, and she was just as mystified to her son's strange behavior now. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. "George?"

At his mother's voice, George snapped out of it, replacing the figurine back in the shrine and replacing it back on top of the wardrobe for safekeeping. Whether the cat was the one or not, the deep feeling in his gut was telling him that the guardian of his ancestors had come back, and he always trusted his gut.

He turned back to his mother, smiling in the face of her concern. "I'm just fine," he assured her, the knowledge of what he had discovered chasing away what it could possibly mean for him. Kissing her on the cheek, he squeezed her shoulder and murmured wonderingly, "The Cat is back, Mother. Rebekah's guardian has come back to watch over us."

Whistling cheerfully, George Cooper strode out the room, heading for the stables and his mare, leaving his mother standing where he had left her, wondering what was going on and puzzling over his last statement. It wasn't until weeks later, when Alanna appeared at her house with Faithful at her heels, that she truly began to understand.

Heading back towards the Dove, George smiled, the worries of his day forgotten for the moment, and the knowledge of what he had found delighting him. With Rebekah's cat in tow, he would have to watch Alanna carefully, and help her any way he could, even though he would already do anything for the spunky squire.

With help like that, she was destined for greatness.

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**A/N: Well, do you like? I tried to keep the characters as true, and I tried to fill in the gaps that Tammy left in the book. Please tell me what you think in a review, and please, no flames!**


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